


Audition Prep

by CoffeeAddict80



Series: Desperate Times... 'verse [24]
Category: Glee
Genre: Auditions and Callbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 06:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19057294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAddict80/pseuds/CoffeeAddict80
Summary: ((One-shot in the Desperate Times ‘Verse. You should probably read that story first. This takes place throughout the month of January during the epilogue))Kurt & Blaine prepare to audition for the Senior Class musical production





	Audition Prep

Blaine walked into the apartment with two large canvas grocery bags in each hand. He smiled at his boyfriend, who was sitting on the couch staring intently at the pieces of paper in his hands. “Hey, sweetie; what are you up to?”

Without looking up from the paper in his hands, Kurt replied, “Do you know how to play bass guitar?”

Blaine squinted in confusion before heading to the kitchen to put the groceries away. “Uh…” he began, turning back toward Kurt after placing the grocery bags on the breakfast bar. “Yeah, I know how to play. I’m not great at it, since I don’t actually own a bass, so I can’t practice very often; but I know enough to stumble my way through a song or two. Why do you ask?”

“Announcements for the Senior Class productions went up today,” Kurt told him. He sighed as he dropped the pages that he had been staring at onto the coffee table, then walked over to the kitchen to help Blaine with the groceries. “I know I’m guaranteed to be cast in at least one of the productions because I’m a Senior in the Theater Department, and the Senior Class production is a graduation requirement – even if I wind up just being cast as a member of the ensemble. But I’ve been going over all the characters from _both_ productions, trying to figure out which one to audition for; because I really want a larger, speaking role. Anyway, I keep coming back to The Bass Player in the musical. The casting call says it’s not a requirement to know how to play the instrument, but it helps. So, I was thinking, if you know how to play…maybe you could teach me? Give me a little bit of an edge in my audition?”

“I would love to teach you!” Blaine agreed, enthusiastically. “The only problem is…” he hesitated, “like I mentioned before, I don’t own a bass. We might be able to borrow one from the school; but if we did that, we’d have to also reserve a practice room on campus for our lessons since they’d never let us take it home.” Noticing the way Kurt’s face fell at that, Blaine hurried to offer another suggestion. “I could always buy one. Then I’d be able to give you lessons at home and brush up on my own skills as well.”

“Bee,” Kurt sighed, “you’re not going to spend thousands of dollars on a brand-new bass guitar just so that you can attempt to teach me how to play it for a role I may not even get. Because we both know that you would barely even touch it after my audition is over; especially if I don’t get the part. It would be a complete waste of money.”

“You can buy a decent bass for under a thousand dollars. But fine, if you don’t want me spending that kind of money… What if I rented one instead?” Blaine suggested. “Most music stores have instrument rentals. I could rent one out, teach you at home, then return it when we’re done. It would be a fraction of the cost, and it wouldn’t wind up laying around the house collecting dust after the audition.”

“Okay, now _that_ I can agree to,” he said. “Auditions are in two weeks. Do you think there’s enough time for me to learn enough to convincingly make it _look_ like I know what I’m doing while on stage?”

“Two weeks should definitely be enough time for you to _at least_ get the basics down,” Blaine told him. “The musical this year is _‘That Thing You Do!’_ , right? So, while we’re at the music store we can check to see if they have any sheet music for the title song; and I can try to teach you how to play that song for real, so your miming will be more believable.”

“You would really do that for me?” Kurt checked, sounding relieved. After Blaine nodded his agreement, he leaned over, giving Blaine a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, babe. And since we’re talking about the Senior Class productions…” he began, slowly, while giving Blaine a nervous glance. “You’re _also_ a Senior in the Theater Department. You need audition for one of the productions as well. Have you had a chance to look over all the roles yet? Do you know which one _you_ want to audition for?”

Blaine bit his bottom lip anxiously. “I know I should probably audition for the play since I’m just a theater major and not a _musical_ theater major…but musical theater _is_ my minor; and the musical just seems like it would be a lot more fun than the play that they chose. I was thinking I could maybe audition for the role of Jimmy. The lead singer. Would…would you be okay with that?”

Kurt paused before answering. “I’m auditioning for The Bass Player, not Jimmy; so, yeah, I’d be cool with that,” he said, nodding. “Sure, Jimmy is one of the main characters, and he has the most songs of anyone in the show; and I would _kill_ to have a role like that, but I have to be realistic. I know I would never be cast as Jimmy even if I did audition for him – I’m not the right fit for the part; which is why I’m not trying out for that role. So I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t audition for him yourself, if that’s the character you want to play; especially since I know it’s a role you would be _amazing_ in.

“Besides, even though The Bass Player technically doesn’t have a name, he’s not really a minor character either. He’s still got a decent amount of dialogue, his own storyline, and he even gets to sing! Okay, so, he’s not a featured singer and all of his vocals are just harmonies, but still… The point is, if I get the part, I won’t just be some faceless person in the background. I’ll be an integral part of the story. And that’s really all I’m looking for at the moment.

“Not only that,” Kurt continued, “but if you’re in the musical with me, then we won’t have opposite rehearsal schedules. And, I don’t know about you, but I kind of like that idea. I barely see you on weekends because of our conflicting work schedules; we sometimes have different filming schedules during the week; and then the days of the week where neither of us are working, we’re usually too buried in _schoolwork_ to have any real quality time together. Why let opposing rehearsal schedules be another thing to cut into our time together when it’s something we can actually avoid?”

“I like the way you think,” Blaine answered, smiling. “So, why don’t you go grab your coat, then we can head down to the music store and see about renting a bass.”

\---

_[One Week Later]_

Sitting in their living room, Blaine was watching as Kurt flawlessly played one of the hardest practice pieces from the bass guitar beginner’s guide that Blaine had bought for him. “Wow, Kurt, that was awesome!” Blaine praised him. “I am _so_ impressed with how much you have learned in such a short amount of time. You really have a knack for the bass.”

“Thank you,” he replied, shyly, slight blush on his cheeks. “I have a really great teacher.”

“Oh, no,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to let you downplay your awesomeness and give _me_ all the credit. I know you’ve been practicing even when I’m not home. _And_ that you’ve been looking up YouTube tutorials for extra help. _This_ …” he gestured to indicate Kurt, the bass, and the practice book, “what you’re doing right now…this is all a combination of _your_ hard work and natural talent. And you should be really proud of that.”

“You’re making it sound like I just played this super complicated, expert-level piece that Adam Schlesinger himself would be intimidated to try,” Kurt told him. “It was just a beginner’s practice exercise. But you’re right; I have been working really hard to learn all the notes and the proper fingering and just…get everything _right_ , so thank you.”

“First of all, _fingering_ is something you’ve _always_ been good at,” Blaine said, smirking, and wiggling his eyebrows at him. Kurt rolled his eyes then gave his boyfriend an exasperated glare. Blaine stifled a laugh before continuing. “Secondly, Adam Schlesinger?” he questioned. “Where did you pull _that_ name from?”

“He’s the bass player for _Fountains of Wayne_. You know, the band that sings that _‘Stacy’s Mom’_ song?” Kurt answered. “I mentioned him because he’s also the composer of the title track of _‘That Thing You Do!’_. When I saw his name on the sheet music book you bought, I looked him up. I thought it was really cool that he was a bass player, since that’s what I’m trying to learn.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ve heard of _Fountains of Wayne_. I just didn’t know their bass player’s name; nor did I know that he composed _‘That Thing You Do!’_ ,” Blaine told him. “But, I agree, that _is_ really cool. And speaking of sheet music for _‘That Thing You Do!’_ … what do you say we start trying to learn that song now? Since you seem to be comfortable with all the different chords and everything.”

“We?” he checked, arching an eyebrow at Blaine.

“Yes; _we_ ,” Blaine confirmed. “I can’t really help teach you how to play it if I don’t know how to play it myself, right? Besides, I also wanted to try to learn the guitar part for my Jimmy audition.”

“You have a point…” he conceded. “Alright, let’s start.”

\---

“Baby, you are _amazing_!” Blaine said after another hour of rehearsal. “You only started learning how to play the bass a week ago, and you’ve already got the first part of the opening verse of this song down after only an hour. When I first started learning guitar, I was still learning _scales_ at this point. And the transition from guitar to bass was not easy for me _at all_ ; but you apparently have a natural aptitude for bass that I obviously lack.”

“I just hope all these lessons and rehearsals aren’t for nothing,” Kurt said, anxiously. “Remind me again why I thought it’d be a good idea to _actually_ learn how to play bass guitar for a role where none of the actors will legitimately be playing instruments on stage? Because I’m worried that I will have gone through all this effort to learn this instrument, and then the casting directors will choose someone else for the part; someone that can’t play bass, or maybe can’t even convincingly _mime_ how to play bass.”

Blaine carefully took the bass out of Kurt’s hands, placed it on the coffee table, then wrapped his arms around him comfortingly. “Just breathe…” he murmured quietly. “Everything’s going to be okay. I know the casting call said that knowing how to play wasn’t a necessity, but it _also_ said that it would help your chances if you _do_ know how. Both of us have auditioned for _dozens_ of school-sponsored _and_ student-sponsored productions over the past few years; and one thing _I’ve_ learned from all of those auditions is that most people only gloss over the casting calls. My guess is that the majority of people that will be trying out for the musical, will have seen the part that says it’s not required to know how to play, and ignored the rest. Being able to play and/or convincingly mime how to play is a _huge_ advantage; one that you seem to have a _genuine_ talent for. Not to mention, you are an incredible actor and singer. You have a fantastic monologue prepared; the song you chose for your vocal audition is fabulous; and you already have most of the required scene dialogue memorized as well. You are going to crush your audition. The casting directors would have to be crazy to not at least consider you for the part.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Kurt asked, before hugging Blaine closer.

“You treated me like a human being,” he replied, softly.

\---

_[Another Week-and-a-Half Later]_

“Are you nervous?” Kurt asked Blaine, as they walked over to the bulletin board where the cast list was supposed to have been posted earlier that day.

Blaine nodded before answering, “There were a lot more guys trying out for Jimmy than I thought there’d be. And most of them are in the musical theater program. How am I supposed to compete with that? I really don’t want to be stuck in the ensemble for my Senior production just because I thought doing a musical would be more fun than a play. Why didn’t you talk me out of this?”

“Partly because I was being selfish and wanted to spend more time with you,” Kurt began. “But _mostly_ because I think you would make an _amazing_ Jimmy.”

“I’m conflicted on how to respond to that,” he replied, anxiously. “On one hand, Jimmy is a talented singer/songwriter; on the other, he’s pretty self-absorbed, and kind of an asshole to his girlfriend. So I don’t know if you’re complimenting me or insulting me. You don’t think I’m a self-absorbed asshole, do you?”

Kurt smiled as he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say you shared his negative qualities. I was implying that you are such a fantastic _actor_ that – even though you are the most selfless person I know, and the most caring and wonderful boyfriend ever – you would be able to convince an audience otherwise without any hardship. However, you won’t need _acting_ to convince anyone of how talented of a singer or musician you are, because those come naturally to you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Blaine said.

The two boys approached the bulletin board, and Blaine began reading off the notice above the cast list aloud to Kurt. “ _We’ve narrowed down our top two casting decisions for each of the main cast – the band members, Mr. White, and Faye – and will be holding callback auditions on Monday and Tuesday_ ,” he read. “ _All other roles have been given a final cast. Those of you with a callback that do not get selected for those particular roles, will be cast as the understudy as well as be included in the ensemble cast. If you are a graduating Senior and your name isn’t on one of these lists, please speak to Professor Cornelis ASAP; otherwise better luck next year_.”

They looked at each other, took a deep breath, and searched for their names. A moment later, they turned back to face one another again and simultaneously said, “I got a callback!”

“I’m so glad you chose to rent the bass out for the whole month, rather than a week-by-week basis,” Kurt told Blaine, quietly. “Now I can practice a little more before my callback.”

“When you do the math, the price for a one-month rental was a better deal,” Blaine replied, shrugging. He turned back to the callback sheet while anxiously nibbling on his lower lip. “I’m really excited about the callback, but at the same time I’m really nervous that I’m not going to get the part and will wind up in the ensemble.”

“Me too,” Kurt agreed. “But at least we’d still get to be the understudy if we don’t get the actual role. With six shows spread out over two weekends, there’s always a chance something could happen – someone could get sick or something – and the understudy would have to go on in his place. Not that I actually want to be an understudy; but, you know, trying my best to look at the silver lining of it all.”

“Yeah, I get it. So, who’s your competition for the part?” Blaine asked.

“Oh, I didn’t even look,” he said. “Uh, let’s see… Daniel Vaudmier. Huh…I don’t think I know who that is.”

“Yes you do,” Blaine answered, scowling.

Kurt gave Blaine a confused glance before his eyes opened wide in shock. “ _No!_ You’re telling me my competition for this role is your asshole ex that harassed me about spending time with you before we even started dating? The same one that doesn’t believe in actually putting in an effort into his auditions or performances?” He saw Blaine nod, then huffed, “Oh, for fuck’s sake! If I get cast as The Bass Player, I’m going to have to be watching my back 24/7 to make sure he doesn’t create some sort of ‘accident’ for me so he can go on in my place, aren’t I? And if I have to be an understudy to him… I don’t even want to think about it.” Shaking away the troubling thoughts, he added, “Who’s your competition?”

“Jared Allen,” Blaine replied. “He’s in a few of my classes. He’s good.”

“I’ve been in a few classes with him as well,” Kurt said. “He _is_ a good actor, but _you_ are a better singer than him.”

“Let’s hope the casting directors agree with you,” he said.

\---

“I forgot to ask, is your callback on Monday or Tuesday?” Blaine asked, as they walked home.

“Tuesday,” Kurt replied.

“Mine’s Monday,” he said. “Do you want me to go with you to yours for moral support?”

“I want to say ‘yes’, but at the same time I don’t want to subject you to Daniel, since his callback is at the same time as mine,” Kurt told him.

“Sweetie, you don’t need to worry about me being around Daniel,” Blaine said. “He doesn’t bother me. Our relationship – if you can even call it a relationship – was extremely short lived, and extremely superficial. I’ve had to see him around campus, share classes with him, hell, I even had to endure being partnered with him for a class assignment after our falling-out. I can deal with him. What I _can’t_ deal with, however, is knowing that there is something that I can do to help support you, and then _not_ doing it. I don’t have any other obligations preventing me from going with you to your callback; so if you need me there, then that’s where I’ll be.”

Kurt smiled at him. “Have I told you how much I love you recently?”

“It never hurts to hear it again,” Blaine replied.

“I love you so damn much,” Kurt told him. “And I would love it if you accompanied me to my callback. Thank you. Do you want me to go with you to yours?”

Blaine nodded. “If you’re not busy.”

“I’m not busy,” he said.

\---

_[The following Tuesday – Day of Kurt’s Callback Audition]_

“Should I bring the bass with me?” Kurt asked Blaine, as they were getting ready to head over to Kurt’s callback. “I mean, at your callback, they asked you to sing while you ‘played’ guitar, to gauge how believable it looked. So, they’ll probably do the same for me, right?”

“Maybe,” Blaine agreed. “But most likely they’ll have a bass on hand for you to play. I mean, I wasn’t asked to bring a guitar to the callback; Professor Cornelis provided me with one once I got there.”

“I know, but this is the only bass I’ve ever played,” Kurt told him. “I’m used to this one. I know how it feels, and I’m comfortable with it. I’m worried that if I get asked to play an unfamiliar instrument, I’ll mess up because it’s different than what I’m used to, and then I won’t get the part.”

“Well, the good thing is, they won’t be judging you on how well you can _actually_ play; just how good it looks from the theater seats,” Blaine reminded him. “But if it makes you more comfortable, bring this one to the callback. I’m sure no one will mind if you want to play your own instrument rather than someone else’s – no one has to know that you technically don’t own this one. And you can always make adjustments to how you play once the part is yours.”

Kurt took a few deep breaths, picked up the case with the bass inside, looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything else, then nodded at Blaine. “Okay, let’s go.”

\---

Sitting on a folding chair outside the stage door, waiting for his callback to begin, Kurt was a nervous ball of energy. “The callback is supposed to start in _three_ minutes. Where the hell is Daniel? He should be here by now,” Kurt hissed, quietly.

“Baby, don’t worry about him, okay?” Blaine replied, soothingly. “Just focus on your own audition. Forget about him.”

“Bee, he is my _direct_ competition for this role,” Kurt said. “We both know he’s not adverse to using underhanded techniques to secure a part. Him not being here is a _huge_ red flag that something’s wrong. How am I supposed to _not_ worry about that?”

Blaine ran a soothing hand, up and down Kurt’s back. “Just breathe, okay? Take a few deep breaths and try not to let your thoughts spiral. Remember: this is a _school_ -run production, not a _student_ -run production. Professors are a little harder to bribe than classmates. And the casting decisions for this musical are being made by a panel of three professors. So, even if Daniel does somehow manage to bribe one of them, there are still two others that can overrule that decision. The fact that he’s not here right now probably has more to do with his lack of work ethic, rather than some underhanded scheme to steal the part from you.”

“I really hope you’re right,” he murmured.

The stage door swung open and Professor Cornelis stepped into the hall. He was looking down at his clipboard as he spoke. “Daniel? Kurt? We’re ready for you now.”

Kurt stood up and took a deep breath as he straightened out his clothing.

Professor Cornelis finally tore his eyes away from the clipboard and looked around the hallway with a confused expression. “Where is Daniel?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him,” Kurt replied.

“Hmm… okay,” he said, quietly to himself, before writing something down on the clipboard. “Well, I guess we’ll start with just you then. Come on in, Kurt, and we’ll get you all set up.”

“Don’t forget your bass,” Blaine said, handing Kurt the case, just as he began walking toward the door. He then smiled sweetly at Kurt. “Break a leg.”

“Thanks,” he replied, then disappeared with the professor into the theater.

\---

Ten minutes after Kurt’s callback began, Daniel approached the stage door, taking note of Blaine sitting out in the hallway. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

Blaine shrugged and replied, “Does it matter?”

“Whatever!” Daniel huffed, while rolling his eyes, before attempting to open the stage door. When the stage door didn’t budge, he pounded the side of his fist on the door three times in rapid succession. After thirty seconds of no response, he pounded on the door again.

A moment later the door swung open, revealing a scowling Professor Cornelis. “Mr. Vaudmier; nice of you finally join us. Your callback started ten minutes ago. Come in. Let’s get started.”

“Oh, give me a break Uncle Mike,” Daniel grumbled, just before the theater door shut behind them.

\---

Another fifteen minutes passed before the stage door opened again. Daniel stormed out and took off down the hall. Kurt exited shortly after, with a nervous smile on his face.

“How’d the callback go?” Blaine asked.

“I think it went okay,” Kurt told him. “I didn’t screw up any of my dialogue; my vocal audition sounded good; and when I had to play the song on bass, I only messed up a couple of notes, but I didn’t _react_ to any of my mistakes, so I don’t think anyone noticed or cared – you know, since the bass wasn’t plugged in and they were only judging my skill on appearance, not sound.

“But Daniel was way too smug during the whole thing. His acting and dialogue was, unfortunately, really good; his vocal audition was just ‘okay’ – but considering the role he’s auditioning for doesn’t have any solos or ‘featured’ vocals, that might not mean anything; and the way he held and played bass did not look natural at all – so I at least have _that_ as an advantage over him. But I just can’t seem to get over how cocky he was; especially for someone who showed up ten minutes late,” he added. “It was a little unsettling.”

“That’s probably because Professor Cornelis is his uncle,” Blaine replied. “Or, at least, he called him ‘Uncle Mike’ when he was let into the theater earlier. He’s probably hoping to get the part based on nepotism alone.”

“What!?” Kurt screeched. “I told you! I _told you_ he was up to something!”

“Sweetie, Professor Cornelis may be the one in charge of this production, but he isn’t the only casting director,” Blaine reminded him. “There’s still _two_ other professors that have input on who gets the part. Not only that, but just because he’s related to Daniel, doesn’t mean he’s going to vote to cast him.”

“You should listen to Mr. Anderson,” Professor Gordon, one of the other casting directors, told Kurt as she walked up behind them, having overheard the tail-end of their conversation. “Sorry to intrude,” she continued. “I was just heading to the vending machine for a drink. I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping. But Mr. Anderson _is_ right; I wouldn’t worry about nepotism being a factor in the casting decisions.” She then smiled and nodded at them before continuing on down the hall.

\---

_[A Few Days Later]_

There was a small crowd of about five people gathered around the bulletin board where the final cast list was to be posted. When Blaine and Kurt approached it, one of the boys standing there looked at Blaine and shook his head. “It’s not up yet. We’re still waiting.”

“Hopefully, they’ll post it soon; I need to get ready for work,” Kurt replied.

A few seconds later, Professor Cornelis approached the bulletin board with a stack of papers in his hands. He pinned the top sheet to the board and dropped the rest into a plastic hanging file below it, then walked away without a word to anyone.

Immediately, everyone began crowding around the sign that was just posted, looking for their names. The boy that had spoken to them earlier, frowned as he looked up at the sign, then turned to Blaine and said, “Congratulations, man,” before walking away.

Blaine’s eyes grew wide with shock as the meaning of those words sunk in. He quickly scanned the cast listing, smiling widely when he saw his name next to the role of Jimmy. “I got the part,” Blaine whispered to himself in disbelief. Tearing his eyes away from the bulletin board, he glanced around for Kurt.

Kurt was staring at the cast listing with a blank look on his face. “Sweetie?” Blaine said, gently. When Kurt continued to stare straight ahead, unresponsive to his boyfriend’s voice, Blaine looked back at the cast listing to search for Kurt’s name. Next to the role of The Bass Player was the name ‘ _Kurt Hummel_ ’.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, excitedly. “Kurt, baby, you got the part! Congratulations, sweetie; I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.”

Kurt let out a quiet giggle, before returning Blaine’s hug. “I got the part,” he repeated.

“Come on, let’s grab a rehearsal schedule and head home,” Blaine said, as he pulled back from the hug.

“Wait!” Kurt said, suddenly. “What about you? Who got the part of Jimmy?”

“You’re looking at him,” Blaine replied, smirking.

“Ah! Congratulations! Happy early birthday, Bee,” Kurt said, giving Blaine another quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Blaine blushed then took two copies of the rehearsal schedule from the hanging file under the cast list, handing one of them to Kurt.

\---

They examined the rehearsal schedule on their walk home. “Rehearsals are on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, which means I, thankfully, won’t have to rearrange my work schedule at the theater,” Kurt said, mostly to himself. “But the first rehearsal is _this_ Tuesday, the day after your birthday. I’ve already got a meeting scheduled with Eric that day.”

“Baby, rehearsal isn’t until 6:30. Your meeting with Eric will be over by then,” Blaine told him, trying to calm Kurt’s anxiety. “You’ll have plenty of time to go to your meeting to pitch your script, come home, eat dinner, change, and still get to rehearsal on time. It will be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I’m stressing over nothing.”

“I’m just glad that Valentine’s Day is on a Wednesday this year, so that we don’t have rehearsal that night,” Blaine said. “Because that would have totally screwed up all my plans.”

Kurt smirked at him. “Oh yeah? Why’s that? Got a hot date that night?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Blaine told him. “My boyfriend – who just so happens to be the most gorgeous man in the entire world – managed to get the night off from work. So I’m taking him out for a very romantic dinner at restaurant that he’s been dying to go to. If I play my cards right, I’m thinking we can have an _extra_ special dessert back home afterwards, if you know what I mean.”

Kurt chuckled at Blaine, who was waggling his eyebrows at him, then bumped his hip against Blaine’s. “You’re such a goof! But that romantic dinner sounds wonderful. I’m sure your boyfriend will love it.”

“I hope you’re right,” he replied, taking Kurt’s hand in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze, as they continued their walk home.

 

 


End file.
